"Momma, that's enough. I can only put so many poinsettias in one bouquet." You giggle and pull some of the deep red flowers from your bridal bouquet. You were hauled up in your momma's old room at you're grandparent's house. Downstairs, you could hear your soon to be husband laughing with friends and family alike. The ceremony was to start soon, right here in the family home. It was tradition, and you didn't even bother to fight that. Ever since you were a little girl you wanted to get married here, just as your parents had.
"Well, they're small. Just trying to make it full," Your mother tusked and moved one of the larger flowers to cover a gap only she saw. Rolling your eyes, you smiled. She meant well and was probably more nervous than you. Johanna Beth Winchester was many things and being your mother was top of the list. You were her youngest little girl of three girls. At twenty-three now, she was at the tender age of fifty-three. Your father would say she aged wonderfully, to which Jo would smack his shoulder and deny it. After another minute, you heard steps coming up the stairs and knew it was your father; come to give you away.
Jo kissed your cheek with a smile and left the room. Her voice and your father's mingle in the hallway in hushed tones. You took the moment of aloneness to examine your appearance one last time. The perfectly white gown reached for the floor, yet not covering your white flat shoes. You and heels was just not a good mix, so you had dismissed them for simple white flats; little crystal hearts decorated them. The gown itself was a custom design. It accented your figure in the best way possible. It had small sleeves, just barely covering your shoulders. Deciding that because the venue and the ceremony would be quite relaxed, there was very little bling to the dress, just small crystal hearts here and there. Your hair was pinned up halfway, the rest curled beautifully. It fit.
While you were distracted, your father walked in the door. He closed it before stopping and staring. He may have married two of his girls before you, but the sight never failed to stop him in his tracks; from his wife on their wedding day, to both your sisters.
"God, look at you," He choked, feeling tears prick at his eyes. Dean Winchester wasn't one to cry, not by any standards, so when he looked at you – his girl – about to become a wife; it was something he felt deeply. You turn and smiled at him. You'd watched him grow old before your own growing eyes. Never before had you realized just how old he was. His wrinkled eyes gleamed at you; loving you the same as they always had.
"Uncle Chuck is downstairs Daddy, he'll see me soon enough," Your giggles were chased by his deep laughter that had never changed, "That he will. Seriously though, you look…amazing. Ah hell, that doesn't even cover it." He came towards you and enveloped you in the sweetest of hugs. It took all you had not to cry in his shoulder like you felt like. They would be bittersweet tears definitely, but mostly sweet, "Thank you Daddy." You whisper to him. After a minute, he pulled back keeping his hands on your arms.
"No need to thank me sweetheart, just the truth. Now, I have something for you,"
"Daddy, you don't—"
"Yes I do. Besides, she'd want you to have it," He dropped one of his hands to reach in his suit pocket and pulled a long thin box. Never having seen it before, you were entirely lost but stayed quiet. Dean opened the box carefully and held it out for you to see. Your painted lips opened in a near silent gasp, "Is that…?"
"Yeah, it is." He lifted Mary Winchester's old anti possession bracelet out of the box. The world had stopped having supernatural problems, so the bracelet would only serve as an old charm bracelet for you. That didn't matter to you though. What mattered was that he would give you something so precious to himself. You never knew Grandma Mary, hell even your dad had barely known her, but the bracelet carried so much history behind it.
Dean clasped the bracelet on your right wrist gently, "It won't help much anymore, with demons being gone and all, but I want you to have it." He was smiling as he said it, but his voice was tinged slightly with sadness. He never had a chance to really know his mother, but the bracelet he'd clung to in hope of never forgetting. You reached up on your toes and hugged him tightly. You didn't need to say thank you again, for there was no need. He knew you would cherish the bracelet. A knock on the door pulled you two apart. To your slight mortification, Dean wiped a small tear from your eye.
"Crap, my mascara!" You giggled and wiped under your eyes. The mirror revealed – thankfully – that it hadn't run. Another knock sounded and Jo called through the door, "Come on you two, it's time."
"We should go, before your mom gets mad,"
"Why is she 'my mom' when she's mad, and not 'your wife'?" You tease slightly, fixing his tie. He kept it loose, undoubtedly so he could take it off as soon as he could.
"Because I refuse to be responsible for items thrown," He laughed even as Jo banged on the door again, "Dean, if you make her late, I will skin you!"
"Come on, it's time to give me away."
"I'll never give you away,"
"And I'll never leave," You smile brightly as he kissed your forehead.